Yesterday in class, before you began composing your reflection, we examined the beginning of Tom Junod‘s article “The Falling Man,” published in Esquire magazine two years after 9-11. One of the elements that we considered–and one that I asked you to address later in your journal–is the unusually long first paragraph.
The authors of Writing Analytically recommend that “[i]f you find a paragraph growing longer than half a page–particularly if it is your opening or second paragraph–find a place to make a paragraph break” (Rosenwasser and Stephen 308). Junod does not follow that advice. He opts instead to open his article with a paragraph of more than four hundred words.
If Junod had chosen to divide the first paragraph, where might he have divided it?
Junod might have started a second paragraph with the words “[i]n all the other pictures,” because there he shifts the focus from the Falling Man to the photographs of other people who jumped from the Twin Towers. An opportunity for a third paragraph comes with the words “[t]he man in the picture, by contrast,” where Junod turns his attention back to the Falling Man. And he might have begun a fourth paragraph with “[s]ome people who look at the picture,” because there he shifts to viewers’ perceptions of the Falling Man.
Generally, one hundred to one hundred and fifty words is a suitable paragraph length. As a rule, you should begin a new paragraph whenyou present a new idea or point. If you have an extended idea that spans multiple paragraphs, each new point within that idea should have its own paragraph. But the first paragraph of “The Falling Man” defies convention. For Junod, choosing not to divide the first paragraph creates an unbroken movement that parallels the unbroken downward flight of his subject, the Falling Man. Outside of the photograph, “he drops and keeps dropping until he disappears.” With “disappears,” the last word of the paragraph,” the Falling Man disappears from the page, and Tom Junod turns to the photographer, whom we learn later in the essay is Richard Drew.
Unless you subscribe to Esquire, the magazine’s paywall will deny you access to the full text of “The Falling Man”; but if you’re interested in reading it in full, you can access it through the HPU Library site by following these steps:
Today we will examine an excerpt from the magazine article “The Falling Man,” by Tom Junod, which I will distribute at the beginning of class. Afterward, you will compose a short reflective essay focusing on the process of planning, drafting, and revising your literacy narrative. If you are still in the process of completing your essay (since you have until Friday morning’s hard deadline to post it), your reflection will address your work in progress. Instructions for your reflective essay are included below.
Directions: Compose a short reflective essay that documents the processes of planning, drafting, and revising your literacy narrative. Questions to consider include the ones listed on the back of this handout. You don’t need to address all the questions. Focus on the ones whose answers reveal the most about your work.
Include in your reflection a minimum of one relevant quotation from the textbook, Writing Analytically, from the section “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook” or from “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay.” Introduce your quotation with a signal phrase and follow it with a parenthetical citation. At the end of your essay, include the heading “Work Cited,” followed by your work cited entry. (See the models on the below.)
Remember that the writing that follows the quotation should demonstrate its relevance. Although you are required to include a quotation, its presence in your writing shouldn’t seem obligatory. In other words, the quotation shouldn’t appear to be there simply because you were required to include it.
Example: When I began planning my literacy narrative, I was skeptical of the assertion that “the more you write, the more you’ll find yourself noticing, and thus the more you’ll have to say” (Rosenwasser and Stephen 157). However, as I wrote in my notebook about the difficulty of holding a page of newspaper when I was a preschooler, I once again saw how those long, thin sheets of newsprint would drape over me. Then I saw my parents holding their pages of newspaper with ease, and I was back in the den with them—where I was more than fifty years ago—marveling at their ability to read.
A variation on the previous option is integrating a quotation that serves as an epigraph in Writing Analytically. If you quote an epigraph, which is a quote at the beginning of a book or book section, intended to suggest its theme, you are presenting an indirect quotation.
Example: In The Situation and the Story, memoirist Vivian Gornick observes: “What happened to the writer is not what matters; what matters is the large sense that the writer is able to make of what happened” (qtd. in Rosenwasser and Stephen). That notion of what matters became apparent to me as I drafted the conclusion of my essay. The story itself is not dramatic but the bridge it delineates—the one that connects my preliterate self to my reading self—signifies a vital crossing point in my life.
The words that I quote are Vivian Gornick’s, but the source is the textbook Writing Analytically. That is why the parenthetical citation begins with qtd. in, to indicate that the words are quoted in David Rosenwasser and Jill Stephen’s book.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook.” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. pp. 157-58.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay.” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. pp. 161-65.
Questions to Consider
You don’t need to address all the questions that follow. Focus on the ones whose answers reveal the most about your work.
When you began transferring the words from your handwritten draft onto the screen of your laptop or tablet, what did you observe about the process?
What aspect of the writing seemed the most challenging? Determining the focus of your narrative? Developing the story? Beginning a scene? Introducing dialogue? Crafting the conclusion? Why did that aspect of the writing seem the most challenging?
Did you change the subject of your narrative? If so, what was the original subject? What did you change it to? Why?
Did you change the organization of the narrative? For example, did you initially present the story chronologically, then begin in the present and move to flashback?
Did any of the sample essays we examined (“Me Talk Pretty One Day,” “The Day Language Came into My Life,” “A Bridge to Words,” “Creativity is Key,” “Making a Speech: Worst Nightmare to Best Experience”) prove helpful as a model? If so, how?
What do you consider the strongest element of your literacy narrative?
What is the title, and at what point in the process did you decide on it? Did you change the title during the writing process? If so, what was the original title?
What image did you include in your blog that documents part of your writing process away from the screen? Why did you choose that particular image?
What relevant website did you link to your blog post. Why is that particular site relevant to your narrative?
Journal Exercise
If you reach a stopping point in your reflective writing before the end of the class period, you should begin the journal exercise that I distribuetd in class. Whether you begin the exercise in class today or start it later, you should complete it in your journal before class on Monday, September 15. If you were absent today or misplace your handout, refer to the directions below.
Journal Exercise Directions
Read “How Long?: Paragraphs, Readers, and Writers” in Writing Analytically (308).
Compose a one- or two-paragraph journal entry about the excerpt from “The Falling Man,” in which you examine the first paragraph and consider why Tom Junod may have chosen to defy convention and expand his paragraph into one of more than four-hundred words.
In your journal entry, quote a phrase or sentence from “How Long?: Paragraphs, Readers, and Writers.”
Introduce your quotation with a signal phrase and follow it with a parenthetical citation. Example: Tom Junod begins “The Falling Man” with a paragraph of more than four-hundred words, even though “[l]ong paragraphs are daunting for both readers and writers” (Rosenwasser and Stephen 308).
At the end of your journal entry, include the header “Work Cited,” followed by an entry for “How Long?: Paragraphs, Readers, and Writers.” See the sample below.
You are not required to quote “The Falling Man” in your journal entry, but if you do, include a works cited entry for Junod’s article as well. Note that if you quote “The Falling Man” in addition to Writing Analytically, the word “works,” not “work” should appear in your header because you are citing more than one work.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “How Long?: Paragraphs, Readers, and Writers.” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. p. 308.
Note that the entries above are block style for optimum appearance in the WordPress platform. The works cited entries in your handwritten assignments and in the papers you submit to Blackboard ahould have hanging indents. In other words, the first line is flush left and any subsequent lines are indented five spaces or one-half inch.
Yesterday in class, we examined the model literacy narrative “A Bridge to Words,” and you and two or three of your classmates collaboratively composed a piece of writing that addressed these elements of the essay:
Appositives
Scene
Figurative language
Gaps in memory/what the narrator doesn’t know
The story’s significance, how the writer conveys it subtly
The sections that follow focus on the elements listed above, ones you should aim to include as you continue to revise your own literacy narrative.
Appositives
Using an appositive–a group of words that renames or defines a noun or noun phrase–not only helps you develop your writing but also enables readers to better relate to your writing through the specifics that the appostives offer. Examine each of the four passages below, and note how each appositive expands on the ideas presented in the noun, the noun phrase, or the noun clause that precedes it.
Early in the essay, I write that “[m]y sister, who was three years older, had her very own news source, The Mini Page, a four-page miniature paper that arrived at our house as an insert in the Sunday edition (par. 2).
I incude another appositive to specify the gesture and the words of a family member: “I remember only the gesture and the words: someone handing me the Sunday comics and saying, “You can read part of the funny page, too. You can read Henry” (par. 3).
When I turn to an appositive again, I do so define a term that may be unfamiliar to some readers: “As the last word in the first line, ‘abhors’ serves as the lead-in to an enjambment: the continuation of a sentence or clause in a line break” (par. 7).
Lastly, I fashion an appostive in the conclusion to convey the significance of the memories I have recounted: “The former wakes and stretches out in my mind as a bridge to the latter: a spot in the world of words I’ve inhabited ever since” (par. 8).
Scene
With the words, “[f]inally, one Sunday,” I shift from summary to scene for the first time (par. 3). The previous paragraphs describe the reading ritual that occurred every Sunday.
Figurative Language
Instances of figurative language in the narrative include “as if covered by a shroud” (par. 1), “like links in a chain” (par. 7), and an extended metaphor in the conclusion, where I personify the comic strip Henry and The Golden Book of Fun and Nonsense, depicting them as slumbering in my brain:
“Perhaps rereading Art Spiegelman’s graphic memoir Maus with my students has aroused the wordless Henry and the word-filled Golden Book of Fun and Nonsense from the corner of my brain where they’ve slumbered. The former wakes and stretches out in my mind as a bridge to the latter: a spot in the world of words I’ve inhabited ever since” (par. 8).
Hillaire Belloc’s “Rebecca,” illustrated by Alice and Martin Provensen
Gaps in the Writer’s Memory as Part of the Narrative
Twice in the essay, I use a strategy employed by Helen Keller in “The Day Language Came into My Life,” specificaly, I note what I cannot recollect. I first use that strategy when I write, “Whether it was one of my parents or my sister, I don’t know” (par. 3). I draw on it again when I write, “Why these particular early memories visit me now, I don’t know” (par. 8).
Conveying the Story’s Significance
As I noted in class, there are a number of ways that I convey the significance of my experience without stating explicitly that the events were noteworthy. The vivid details of the narrative demonstrate their importance. Those details that are vivid in my mind are subsequently lifelike on the page because their significance permeates them. Some groups offered as examples details about my sister, Jo, reading to me from The Golden Book of Fun and Nonsense. One group noted “the word ‘abhors’ . . . which appealed to me” (par. 7). Another group mentioned my “uncontrollable giggles” (par. 7).
As you revise, review these notes and incorporate some of these elements into your own literacy narrative.
In class on Wednesday, you will compose a short reflective essay focusing on the process of planning, drafting, and revising your literacy narrative. If you are still in the process of completing your essay on Wednesday (since you have until Friday morning’s hard deadline to post it) your reflection will address your work in progress. Before tomorrow’s class, be sure to complete the short reading assignments in Writing Analytically as well as the accompanying planning exercise in your journal. The details are outlined in yesterday’s blog post.
Hillaire Belloc’s “Rebecca,” illustrated by Alice and Martin Provensen
Today in class, we will examine the model literacy narrative “A Bridge to Words,” which you read for today, and you and two or three of your classmates will collaboratively compose a piece of writing that addresses these elements of the essay:
Appositives
Scene
Figurative language
Gaps in memory/what the narrator doesn’t know
The story’s significance, how the writer conveys it subtly
As you continue to revise, consider the role of those elements your own literacy narrative. All of them may not figure in your own story, but scene, at least a brief one, and a sense of the story’s significance are vital. Keep in mind that the story’s significance should be conveyed subtly. Do not tell the reader that the the event was significant, and don’t resort to such trite statements as it made me the person I am today.
A Bridge to Words
To a small child, the pages of a newspaper are enormous. Looking far back through the years, I see myself, not yet school age, trying to hold up those long, thin sheets of newsprint, only to find myself draped in them, as if covered by a shroud. Of course, back then, my inability to hold a newspaper properly was of little consequence. Even if I could have turned the pages as gracefully as my parents did, I couldn’t decipher the black marks on the page; thus, my family’s ritual reading of the newspaper separated them from me. As the youngest and the only one who couldn’t read, I was left alone on the perimeter to observe. My family’s world of written words was impenetrable; I could only look over their shoulders and try to imagine the places where all those black marks on the page had carried them—these people, my kin, who had clearly forgotten that I was in the room.
My sister, who was three years older, had her very own news source: The Mini Page, a four-page miniature paper that arrived at our house as an insert in the Sunday edition. While our parents sat in their easy chairs poring over the state and local news, my sister, Jo, perched at the drop-front desk and occupied herself with articles, puzzles, and connect-the-dots.
Finally, one Sunday, someone noticed me on the margin and led me into our family’s reading circle. Whether it was one of my parents or my sister, I don’t know. I remember only the gesture and the words: someone handing me the Sunday comics and saying, “You can read part of the funny pages, too. You can read Henry.”
I took the giant page and laid it flat in the middle of the oval, braided rug on the floor of the den. Once I situated the page, I lay on top of it with my eyes just inches above the panels of the comic strip. To my parents, my prone position was a source of amusement, but for me it was simply a practical solution. How else was someone so small supposed to manage such a large piece of paper?
As I lay on the floor and looked at the comic strip’s panels, I realized what the voice had meant. I could “read” Henry, the comic with the bald boy in a red shirt, because it consisted entirely of pictures. In between panels of Henry walking, there were panels of him standing still, scratching his hairless head. I didn’t find Henry funny at all. I wondered how that pale forerunner of Charlie Brown had earned a prime spot in the funnies. Still, I was glad he was there. He was the bridge that led me to the written word.
Reading the wordless comic strip Henry for the first time was the beginning of a years-long habit of stretching out on the floor with newspapers and large books—not thick ones but ones that were tall and wide, among them one of my childhood favorites: The Golden Book of Fun and Nonsense. My sister and I spent hours lying on our bedroom floor, the pink shag carpet tickling our legs as we delighted in the antics of Rebecca, the mischievous title character of one of the poems.
Carl Thomas Anderson’s comic strip character Henry
“Rebecca”—which my sister read to me before I could read it myself—introduced me to the word “abhors,” the very sound of which appealed to me. Sometimes before Jo had finished reading the opening lines, my uncontrollable giggles collided with her perfect mock-serious delivery. As the last word in the first line, “abhors” serves as a lead-in to an enjambment: the continuation of a sentence or clause in a line break. It would be years before I learned the term “enjambment,” but I was immediately swept away by its effect in the opening lines: “A trick that everyone abhors/ In Little Girls is Slamming Doors” (Belloc 61). The first line lured me into the second one, and so on and so on. I was drawn both to the individual word “abhors”—with its side-by-side “b” and “h,” rare in English—and the way the words joined, like links in a chain, to yank me giggling through Rebecca’s cautionary tale:
It happened that a marble bust Of Abraham was standing just Above the door this little lamb Had carefully prepared to slam, And down it came! It knocked her flat! It laid her out! She looked like that.
Her funeral sermon (which was long And followed by a sacred song) Mentioned her virtues, it is true, But dwelt upon her vices too, And showed the dreadful end of one Who goes and slams the door for fun. (61)
Why these particular early memories visit me now, I don’t know. Perhaps rereading Art Spiegelman’s graphic memoir Maus with my students has roused the wordless Henry and the word-filled Golden Book of Fun and Nonsense from the corner of my brain where they’ve slumbered. The former wakes and stretches out in my mind as a bridge to the latter: a spot in the world of words I’ve inhabited ever since.
In the second half of today’s class, I will take you through the steps posting your literacy narrative to Blackboard and WordPress. If you are absent from class or need a review, watch these YouTube videos on submitting an assignment to Blackboard and publishing a post on WordPress.
Contractions: Are They or aren’t They Permissible?
It isn’t surprising that contractions, such as “couldn’t” for “could not,” appear in “A Bridge to Words” because it’s a personal narrative with a conversational voice. But sometimes students are uncertain whether they should use contractions in traditional academic assignments, ones of a more formal nature, such as the other major writing assignments you will produce for English 1103.
Sometimes students are told that they can’t cannot use contractions in formal writing, but MLA style does permit their use. The MLA Style Center notes, “there is nothing inherently incorrect about contractions.” But the website goes on to state that in some contexts and for reasons of clarity, avoiding contractions may be preferable. In your writing assignments for English 1103, use contractions sparingly. Your literacy narratives are an exception to that rule because of their personal nature.
Some professors may prohibit the use of contractions in writing assignments. If you’re uncertain whether a professor permits them, ask.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024.
Writing Analytically
For Wednesday, read “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook” (157-58) and “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay” (161-64). Those sections of the textbook serve as companion pieces to your writing thus far in English 1103, and reading and taking notes on those sections will prepare you to compose part of the reflective essay you will write in class on Wednesday.
After you have read and taken notes on “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook” and “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay,” choose a phrase, clause, or sentence relevant to your writing process and draft in your journal a short passage that connects that quotation to your writing. That passage will serve as part of your reflection. Here are the instructions that will be included on the handout that I distribute on Wednesday:
Directions
Include in your reflection a minimum of one relevant quotation from the textbook, Writing Analytically, from the section “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook” or from “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay.” Introduce your quotation with a signal phrase and follow it with a parenthetical citation.
Remember that the writing that follows the quotation should demonstrate its relevance. Although you are required to include a quotation, its presence in your writing shouldn’t seem obligatory. In other words, the quotation shouldn’t appear to be there simply because you were required to include it.
Example
When I began planning my literacy narrative, I was skeptical of the assertion that “the more you write, the more you’ll find yourself noticing, and thus the more you’ll have to say” (Rosenwasser and Stephen 157). However, as I wrote in my notebook about the difficulty of holding a page of newspaper when I was a preschooler, I once again saw how those long, thin sheets of newsprint would drape over me. Then I saw my parents holding their pages of newspaper with ease, and I was back in the den with them—where I was more than fifty years ago—marveling at their ability to read.
A variation on the previous option is integrating a quotation that serves as an epigraph in Writing Analytically. If you quote an epigraph, which is a quote at the beginning of a book or book section, intended to suggest its theme, you are presenting an indirect quotation.
Example
In The Situation and the Story, memoirist Vivian Gornick observes: “What happened to the writer is not what matters; what matters is the large sense that the writer is able to make of what happened” (qtd. in Rosenwasser and Stephen). That notion of what matters became apparent to me as I drafted the conclusion of my essay. The story itself is not dramatic but the bridge it delineates—the one that connects my preliterate self to my reading self—signifies a vital crossing point in my life.
The words that I quote are Vivian Gornick’s, but the source is the textbook Writing Analytically. That is why the parenthetical citation begins with qtd. in, to indicate that the words are quoted in David Rosenwasser and Jill Stephen’s book.
At the end of your reflective writing, you will include a work cited entry for the section of the textbook that you quoted. See the samples below.
Sample Works Cited Entries
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “On Keeping a Writer’s Notebook.” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. pp. 157-58.
Rosenwasser, David and Jill Stephen. “Writing from Life: The Personal Essay.” Writing Analytically, 9th edition. Wadsworth/Cengage, 2024. pp. 161-65.
Next Up
In class on Wednesday, you will compose a short reflective essay focusing on the process of planning, drafting, and revising your literacy narrative. If you are still in the process of completing your essay on Wednesday (since you have until Friday morning’s hard deadline to post it) your reflection will address your work in progress.
Previously, I published a blog post featuring playable two-letter words beginning with a, as well as a blog post featuring playable two-letter words beginning with b, d, and e. Today’ s blog post features playable two-letter words beginning with f, g, h, i, j, k, and l. Learning these two-letter words, as well as the other two-letter words in the alphabet, will enable you to see more options for play and may increase the number of points you earn in a single turn.
fa: a tone on the diatonic scale
fe: a Hebrew letter
gi: a white garment worn in martial arts
go: a Japanese board game
ha: used to express surprise
he: a pronoun signifying a male
hi: an expression of greeting
hm: used to express consideration
ho: used to express surprise
id: the least censored part of the three-part psyche
if: a possibility
in: to harvest (a verb, takes -s, -ed, -ing)
is: the third-person singular present form of “to be”
it: a neuter pronoun
jo: a sweetheart
ka: the spiritual self in ancient Egyptian spirituality
ki: the vital life force in Chinese spirituality (also qi)
Yesterday before you you began your revision work, we examined a page (pictured above) from Harper Lee’s novel To Kill a Mockingbird. That page from the first chapter serves as a valuable model for three narrative elements: summary, scene, and dialogue–at least two of which will figure in your literacy narrative.
The first paragraph of the passage summarizes the characters’ circumstances, designating the “summertime boundaries” (12) within which the narrator, Jean Louise, “Scout,” Finch, and her older brother, Jem, may play outdoors. The short one-sentence paragraph that follows continues the summary, informing readers that the summer Scout has just summarized is the one in which Dill (Charles Baker Harris) first visits Maycomb, Alabama.
With the first words of the next paragraph, “[e]arly one morning,” Scout shifts from summary to scene (12). All of the remaining paragraphs except the final one continue the scene with dialogue. Scout returns to summary with the words “Dill was from Meridian” (12).
Note that Harper Lee begins a new paragraph whenever the speaker changes. Also note that every line of dialogue does not include a dialogue tag, such as “he said” or “she said.” If a passage of dialogue includes only two speakers, none of the paragraphs require dialogue tags after the speakers’ first lines because the start of a new paragraph signals to the reader that the other person is speaking. If a dialogue includes three or more speakers–such as Scout’s conversation with Jem and Dill–occasional tags are essential.
Lessons in Punctuation
The excerpt from To Kill a Mockingbird also demonstrates how to use a variety of punctuation marks, including em dashes, hyphens, and commas.
Harper Lee uses em dashes to set off “Miss Rachel’s rat terrier was expecting” (12) from the rest of the sentence because it is nonessential. It adds details, but the sentence can function without them. An em dash is used before and after phrases that are nonessential. Note that there is no space before or after the dash, which is made with two strikes of the hyphen key.
Jem asks if Dill is “four-and-a-half”? Hyphens appear between those words because multiple-word numbers are hyphenated.
Near the end of the excerpt, “Mississippi” and “Miss Rachel” (12) are both set off by commas because those details are nonessential. Commas are used to set off single words and short phrases of nonessentials the way that em dashes are used to set off longer units of words.
Work Cited
Lee, Harper. To Kill a Mockingbird. Lippincott, 1960. p. 12.
This morning I will return your drafts, and you will have the remainder of the class period to begin revising your literacy narratives on your laptops. You will have an additional week to continue your revision work before you submit the assignment to Blackboard and publish it as a WordPress blog entry. The due date is next Wednesday, September 10 (before class). The hard deadline is Friday, September 12 (before class). Directions for submitting your literacy narrative are included on your assignment sheet and on the Blackboard submission site. Next Monday, September 8, I will guide you through the submission processes step by step.
As you continue to revise your literacy narrative, consider visiting the Writing Center. If you do so, you will earn five bonus points for the assignment.
To schedule an appointment, visit the Writing Center’s sign-up page, email the Writing Center’s director, Professor Justin Cook, at jcook3@highpoint.edu, or scan the QR code above. To earn bonus points for your literacy narrative, consult with a Writing Center tutor no later than Thursday, September 11.
I attached a Writing Notes handout to your introductory reflective writing exercises, one that I noted you should keep in your pocket portfolio and refer to when you are composing assignments. I have included an additional copy of that list below, followed by a second list of notes, which I have attached to the drafts of your literacy narratives.
Writing Notes
&: Do not use an ampersand (&) in place of the word and in formal writing.
Abbreviations should often be avoided in formal writing. Do not write vocab for vocabulary. On first reference, spell out Advanced Placement in the name of a course. In subsequent references, AP is acceptable.
A lot: Don’t use a lot a lot. There are a lot of better ways to express that idea, such as many, often, considerable, etc. If you use a lot in your writing, I will mark it with a d, which denotes diction or word choice.
Compound modifiers are linked with a hyphen. Write twelve-page paper, not twelve page paper.
English and the names of other languages are always capitalized. If you write English with a lower-case e, I will underscore the letter with three vertical lines. Those three lines are the proofreader’s mark that denotes the need for a capital letter.
Hopefully: I hope is a more direct expression of your wish and is preferrable in formal writing.
Numbers that can be expressed as one or two words are written as words, not figures, in MLA style, which is the style used in English courses as well as some other courses in the humanities. Write twenty-five, not 25.
Paragraphs: Business writing calls for block paragraphs, but your writing for English 1103 and many of your other classes will require you to indent the first lines of each paragraph five spaces or one-half inch.
Passive voice should often be avoided in formal writing. The subject should perform the action. Write we read several nineteenth-century novels, not several nineteenth-century novels were read.
Then/Than: Than is used in comparisons; then refers to a point in time.
Titles: In MLA style, the titles of book-length works are italicized. If you are writing longhand, the titles of book-length works are underlined. The titles of shorter works—such as essays, short stories, and poems—are enclosed in quotation marks.
Writing Notes, Part II
Apart: If you write apart when you mean a part, you have the written the opposite of what you intended. Apart is separate from; a part is a segment of a whole.
Appositive: an appositive phrase offers additional information about a word or phrase that precedes it. Consider this sentence: My journal, a worn, spiral-bound notebook with Snoopy on the cover, is near at hand most hours of the day. The words a worn, spiral-bound notebook with Snoopy on the cover are an appositive because they offer more information about the journal.
Center: The preposition that follows the verb center is on, not around.Centering around is impossible. Try to do it.
Commas are not the equivalent of periods. Consider the following pairs of independent clauses: (a) The test consisted of fifty questions. I thought it would never end. (b) The test consisted of fifty questions; I thought it would never end. (c) The test consisted of fifty questions, and I thought it would never end. A comma can join two independent clauses—as it does in example c—only if it is followed by a coordinating conjunction (for, and, nor, but, or, yet, so, referred to as the acronym FANBOY). If you use a comma between two independent clauses without following it with a coordinating conjunction, you have created a comma splice.
Do: What specifically did you? (There is almost always a stronger verb than do.) Drafted, revised, edited, reviewed, studied, and memorized are all verbs that denote a particular action. Use action verbs whenever possible.
Modifiers: Place modifiers and modifying phrases as close as possible to the words they are meant to describe. Consider this sentence: As a four-year-old, my grandmother taught me to print the letters of the alphabet. In it, the person who is four is the grandmother, which makes no sense. (She cannot be a grandmother at four.) The sentence should be revised to read something like this: As a four-year-old, I learned from my grandmother how to print the letters of the alphabet.
That/Who: The relative pronoun who, not that, refers to people. (That refers to things.) Do not write He is the teacher that taught me to how to develop my writing. Instead, write He is the teacher who taught me to how to develop my writing.
No Duck-Rabbit Illusion* Here
Monday at 7 a.m., after I parked my car, I spotted the duck and rabbit in the picture above. It’s not unusual to see a rabbit on campus in the early-morning hours or a duck swimming in the reservoir of one of the fountains. But Hayworth Hall is nowhere near any of HPU’s water features. Seeing those two creatures so close to each other was a lovely surprise. If you haven’t seen a duck or a rabbit on campus, take an early-morning walk.
*The duck-rabbit illusion theory demonstrates how a single image can be perceived in two distinctly different ways, underscoring the ambiguity of perception. Do you see a duck or a rabbit in the image below?
Yesterday morning, after your quiz and Scrabble debriefing, we examined “The Day Language Came into My Life,” the fourth chapter of Helen Keller’s autobiography, The Story of My Life. The details of her literacy narrative that we considered include these:
Keller draws on her sense of touch to render her world to us because she cannot see or hear. She writes of the warmth of the sun “on her upturned face” (par. 2) as she depicts herself waiting for the arrival of her teacher, Anne Mansfield Sullivan. Aim to use relevant sensory details in your own literacy narrative.
In the conclusion of her chapter, Keller writes, “I learned a great many words that day. I do not remember what they all were; but I do know that mother, father, sister, teacher were among them” (par. 9). In writing those words, Keller makes both what she doesn’t remember and what does remember part of her story. You may not remember all of the details of a memory from your childhood, but the details you do remember will render your narrative more vividly. And if there’s something you don’t remember, that uncertainty–as Keller demonstrates–can be on the page, too.
She spells out the words that her teacher spells for her by forming each letter one at a time in Keller’s hand. If you are writing about learning to spell words, let the reader see that on the page as Keller lets her reader see: “‘w-a-t-e-r’ is water” (par. 6).
In “Me Talk Pretty One Day,” David Sedaris does not spell out the French words he is learning to speak, but he does include nonsense words, such as “meimslsxp” (167), to convey his lack of understanding. If you are writing about learning a second language, consider following Sedaris’ lead and using nonsense words–not his but ones of your own making–to convey your initial confusion. Also, try including one or more words of the language itself. Remember that words you write that are not English words–nonsense words included–are italicized.
Work Cited
Keller, Helen. “The Day Language Came Into My Life.” https://janelucasdotcom. files.wordpress.com/2025/08/a0461-3.thedaylanguagecameintomylife_keller.pdf.
Sedaris, David. “Me Talk Pretty One Day.” Me Talk Pretty One Day. Little Brown, 2000. pp. 166-73.
A Pair of Samples
As you prepare to revise your own literacy narrative, review the two samples that we examined in class. While the first, “Creativity is Key,” is admirable for its conversational voice, it lacks the structure and development it needs. It is not a story, it does not meet the minumum length requirement, and it is marred by errors of punctuation, mechanics, and style.
The second sample, “Giving a Speech: Worst Nightmare to Best Feeling” is a much better effort. The essay is a narrative, not simply a series of sentences, and the writer gracefully shifts from summary to scene. Note that a significant portion of the story is presented through scenes with diaogue.
The second part of the title, “Worst Nightmare to Best Feeling,” is an appositive, which is a phrase that offers additional information about the word or phrase that precedes it. Appositives are effective ways to develop your writing. You are welcome to include one in the title of your literacy narrative, but don’t fashion one that tells the reader too much. Your title should offer a window into your essay, but it should not be a spoiler.
Pop Quiz
Rather than listing the answers to the questions on yesterday’s quiz, I have followed each question below with a note regarding where to find the answer. By finding the answers yourself, you will learn more than you would from simply reading them in a list.
In “The Day Language Came into My Life,” Helen Keller recounts what happened on that day, three months before she turned seven. Name one detail from that day. See your copy of “The Day Language Came into My Life.”
What is the style used for formatting files and documenting sources in papers for courses in English and many other courses in the humanities (philosophy, classics, religious studies, art history, and foreign languages)? See the August 29 class notes.
The class notes “ENG 1103: Matters of Style” includes details about formatting papers in the style you will use for English 1103. Name one of those details. See the August 29 class notes.
What is the topic of the most recent blog post devoted to Scrabble? Note that Scrabble is the subject, not the topic. The topic is something more specific. See the August 28 class notes.
What have you learned about writing from the Writing Notes handout distributed on August 20 or from the annotations on your introductory reflection or on one of your group exercises? Briefly note the rule or guideline. See your Writing Notes handout, your introductory reflection, and your group exercises.
Your quiz also included a bonus opportunity. Possible answers for that bonus are found in the class notes for August 21, August 22, and August 28.
Next Up
Tomorrow you will continue work on your own literacy narratives. At the beginning of class, I will return your rough drafts with my notes, and you will have the remainder of the class period to revise on your laptops. You will have an additional week to continue revising before posting your literacy narrative to Blackboard and to your WordPress blog. The due date is Wednesday, September 10 (before class); the hard deadline is Friday, September 12 (before class).
Together, Sedaris‘ essay and Keller’s chapter demonstrate two vastly different ways to present a literacy narrative. “Me Talk Pretty One Day” offers a quirky look at the challenges of learning French from a sarcastic, soul-crushing instructor. Keller’s story poignantly recounts learning to make meaning through the sign language of her teacher, Annie Sullivan, learning that certain finger positions mean “water” for those who cannot hear it, and for others, like her, who can neither see nor hear it.
Sample Student Essays
After we study Keller’s chapter, will examine two literacy narratives written in a previous semester. After you read and annotate the essays, you and two or three of your classmates will collaboratively compose a short assessment of each narrative.
In each assessement, consider whether the essay focuses on one of the following options for topics:
A memory of a reading or writing assignment that you recall vividly
Someone who helped you learn to read or write
A writing-related school event that you found humorous or embarrassing
A particular type of writing that you found (or still find) especially difficult or challenging
A memento that represents an important moment in your development as a reader or writer
Also determine whether each essay fulfills the requirements listed below.
A well-told story
Vivid detail
Some indication of the narrative’s significance
A minimum of 600 words
A title that offers a window into the essay
After you have composed your assessment, you will review the grade criteria and assign a letter grade to each narrative.
Literacy Narrative Grade Criteria
An A literacy narrative complies with all assignment guidelines: It presents a well-told story, includes vivid details, and conveys the story’s significance in a way that demonstrates a depth of understanding. An A literacy narrative is also well organized and relatively free of surface errors.
A B literacy narrative complies with all assignment guidelines but may convey the significance of the story in a superficial way, may have issues with organization, or may be flawed by surface errors.
A C literacy narrative complies with most but not all assignment guidelines and may be flawed by issues of organization and/or surface errors.
A D literacy narrative complies with only a few of the assignment guidelines and may also be flawed by issues of organization and/or surface errors.
An F literacy narrative fails to comply with most or all assignment guidelines and may also be flawed by substantial issues of organization and/or surface errors.
Next Up
On Wednesday you will continue work on your own literacy narratives. At the beginning of class, I will return your rough drafts with my notes, and you will have the remainder of the class period to revise on your laptops. You will have an additional week to continue revising before posting your literacy narrative to Blackboard and to your WordPress blog. The due date is Wednesday, September 10 (before class); the hard deadline is Friday, September 12 (before class).
On August 16, 17, and 23, audiences at the Winston-Salem Theatre Alliance’s Beall black box theatre found themselves aboard the Orca with Robert Shaw (Patrick Daley), Richard Dreyfuss (Kenan Stewart), and Roy Scheider (Robert Evans), waiting for the tech crew to repair the mechanical shark for the umpteenth time. The shark’s frequent malfunctions (animatronics are no match for saltwater)—a staple of behind-the-scenes accounts of Jaws—try the actors’ patience, none more so than Shaw’s. Like his character in the film, the eccentric shark hunter, Quint, Shaw is a quick-tempered alcoholic. His similarities to his character prompt Dreyfuss to remark that he isn’t sure where Shaw ends and Quint begins. Shaw exploits that blurred line, needling the neurotic Dreyfuss who hops about the Orca’s deck like a nervous rabbit, confessing his desire to meet the renowned playwright Harold Pinter.
Shaw, a masterful interpreter of Pinter’s work, cruelly misleads the naïve Dreyfuss, telling him that Pinter would love for Dreyfuss to call him in the morning and tell the playwright his own interpretations of his plays. When Shaw and Dreyfuss almost come to blows—as they do more than once—it’s Scheider who serves as mediator, his primary function in the play. Like his Jaws character, Police Chief Brody, he’s there to keep the peace. Neither Brody nor Dreyfuss is as deftly drawn as Shaw, undoubtedly because one of the play’s coauthors, Ian Shaw, began the project that became The Shark is Broken as a way of exploring the life of his father, who died three years after he brought Quint to life on screen. Ian was only nine years old.
Like his father, Ian became an actor, and like his father, he turned to writing, but the two pursuits do not compete for the younger Shaw’s attention as they did for his father’s. In The Shark isBroken, Shaw—recipient of the Hawthornden Prize for his second novel—laments that he has neglected his writing in favor of a Hollywood career, a choice he makes not for stardom but to support a family of (then) nine children. When Shaw recites Shakespeare’s Sonnet 29, his utterance of the desire for “this man’s art and that man’s scope” (7) speaks to his longing to write. Notably, he recites the sonnet as an antidote to Dreyfuss’ panic attack. Though Shaw has bullied the younger actor throughout the play, when Dreyfuss finds himself in crisis, Shaw speaks the words that calm him.
Photo by Neil Jester Photography https://neiljesterphotography.shootproof.com/ (L-R): Patrick Daley (Shaw), Kenan Stewart (Dreyfuss), and Robert Evans (Scheider) in the Winston-Salem Theatre Alliance production of The Shark is Broken.
Shaw’s own writing comes to the fore in two scenes that depict his signature monologue, the speech that recounts the horrific aftermath of the torpedoing of the U.S.S. Indianapolis after it delivered the atomic bomb to the island of Tinian. Many of the sailors who survived the ship’s attack by the Japanese were later ripped to pieces by sharks. In the film, the monologue traces Quint’s deep-seated hatred of sharks to its depths in the Western Pacific, where hundreds of his shipmates perished in a sea of blood. In the play, the monologue foregrounds Shaw’s own writing. Rehearsing the scene, Shaw balks at the screenwriters’ shoddy speech. Then, in frustration, he pens his own version, the one we have watched over and over as Hooper and Brody listen in awe.
The final scene of the play returns to the monologue, giving the audience a live performance of the lines they have watched Shaw utter countless times on screen, and the ones they have now watched the actor put on paper. I can hardly fathom the mega-meta quality of watching Ian Shaw in the first productions of The Shark is Broken—the younger Shaw performing the role of his father in a play that he, the son, cowrote, with Joseph Nixon, to depict his father portraying Quint . . . At a community theatre, the effect isn’t mega-meta, but it’s multi-layered, nevertheless. Audiences at Winston-Salem Theatre Alliance watched Triad actors Patrick Daley (Shaw), Kenan Stewart (Dreyfuss), and Robert Evans (Scheider) portraying Hollywood actors performing—or mostly waiting to perform—now-iconic roles. Call it a Chinese box or a hall of funhouse mirrors. Maybe we’re going to need a bigger metaphor.
Jane Lucas 